


Greenwood The Great (The Woodland Realm - Book One)

by Oakel



Series: The Woodland Realm [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Book One, F/M, War of the Last Alliance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 13:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15931283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakel/pseuds/Oakel
Summary: Oropher, elvenking of Greenwood the Great seeks to defend his kingdom from the growing threat to the south-east. Worried for his son Thranduil, who was gravely wounded during the War of Wrath, he must find the balance between his duty as king and his duty as a father. Meanwhile Thranduil must try to come to terms with his injuries and overcome his fears of being alone.Follows the years of Thranduil and his mother's arrival to Greenwood, up until the forming of the last alliance. Oropher/Wife & Thranduil/Wife (Opening Stages)





	1. Chapter 1

**The Woodland Realm**

****

_Chapter I – Rising from the East_

_Year 3429 of the Second Age_

Silent as the cat that stalked its prey did the woodland elves of Greenwood the Great move unhindered across the gnarled roots of the trees, their sights set on the prey who stalked unwelcomingly within the wood. Orcs. The king’s company had tracked them coming up south from the brown lands a land that held great sorrow, not in centuries had orcs dared approach the great forest and they would learn the error of their mistake that day. The company of elves were garbed in firm leather armour and wielded short recurved bows in their hands whilst curved swords hung at their hips, each had an arrow nocked ready to be loosed. The company reached their target a few minutes later as they reached an overlook that gave them sight over the forest path below, their keen eyes picking out the orcs instantly as they scurried along whilst unaware of the danger than lurked in the trees. Their black speech began to reach the ears of the woodland elves who sneered in disgust at the foul creatures, galled by the confidence the orcs must have felt to dare trend on the elven paths, snapping from their daze the wardens spread out amongst the trees and drew their bows.

 

The soft sound of hooves on the mulch of the forest floor sounded behind the wardens yet no elf turned to meet the sound, for they knew whom stood at their backs. The elvenking. He made no sound as his silver-white furred elk stepped forward to observe the ambush that was about to take place, the orcs were about to cross the path before them, the pack numbered about sixty. The elvenking’s grey eyes looked up ahead and spied the second half of his company that positioned themselves on the other side of the road, they too had their bows drawn. The captain of the wardens turned to look him in the eye, asking for consent to order the attack and after a brief pause the elvenking nodded his consent.

 

“Leave one alive” he commanded. The captain nodded before pulling the horn from his hip to his lips and letting loose a long call. As the horn sounded the orcs on the path stopped instantly, snarling and drawing their crude weaponry as they looked to the source of the sound, as they did tens of arrows raced from both sides of the path, dropping half of their number with one volley. A second volley came and crashed into orc flesh, as the second volley left the bows of the woodland elves the elvenking sprang into action as his elk leaped out of the trees and charged into the fray. The remaining orcs turned to flee, the king wielded a long spear and pointed to an orc he wanted alive, his men heeded the order and shot the remaining orcs down before descending to finish off any wounded with their blades. The remaining fleeing orc tried to turn into the forest thinking to seek shelter from the large forest creature and its rider, however the spear of the king caught it first as the leaf-shaped spear blade pierced the orcs hamstring with such force it shattered the bone beneath. The orc shrieked in agony as it crumpled to the path unable to crawl away as the king’s elk stamped down on its healthy leg, causing the air to split with an almighty crack.

 

“Silence filth!” barked the elvenking from atop his mount, the orc being unable to roll over looked up over its shoulder with fear evident in his yellow eyes. The bloodied spear hovered mere inches from the orcs face, and as the creature looked up he could see a tall and fierce elf astride his mighty forest elk, it seemed the orc would suffer greatly for its arrogance in stepping into the forests of the woodland realm. “Why do you enter my forest orc” spoke the elf in a low and dangerous tone.

 

“Not yours, not for much longer” the orc snarled, hatred overcoming fear at that moment. The creature felt a hot flash of pain as the spear was driven into its shoulder, pinning it to the earth.

 

“Answer the question,” the elf asked more firmly, twisting his spear and inflicting agony on the orc.

 

“Soon elf, your forests will burn, and your people shall be slaughtered. You will not be so mighty astride your mount as your men are butchered and your women and children are hand fed screaming to the war…” the orcs tirade was cut short as the elvenking slammed his spear point into the throat of the orc, nearly severing its head from its shoulders. The king sat motionless for a moment and then began wiping the blood from his spear on the corpse of the dead orc. _Flith_ he thought, no one hated the spawn of Morgoth more than the elves, not even the dwarves could claim that.

 

“My king Oropher” called the captain of the guard from over by the mass of dead orcs, the king urged his large forest elk to trot over to his royal guards who were ensuring the orcs were slain and retrieving their arrows. Oropher observed the carnage before him, it was the fifth orc group that had strayed into their borders in the last two weeks whereas they had been at peace for the servants of Morgoth for many centuries, he had already ordered the population to move further north, he feared they may need to yet move further. “All dead I am sure Faendil? This is becoming troubling indeed, I want the watch doubled at the borders nothing is to enter this forest without my knowledge” the king ordered.

 

“Of course, my king, I will see to it that the patrols are increased at once” Faendil replied, his shoulders squared as he addressed the king. The Silvan elf had served as Oropher’s captain of the guard for nearly a century and always carried out his duties without equal.

 

“Very good, I will send word to King Amdir in Lorinand regarding the latest orc incursions, I would know if the Golden Wood suffers such.” Oropher commented, his mind pondering another thought. “Send for my for my wife and son, I would have them close and not in Lindon with the Noldor” Oropher added as he watched the elves piled up the dead orcs. It had been a few years since Oropher had seen his wife, he missed the warmth of her smile and her council and he especially missed his son, Thranduil. He had inherited his mothers golden-white hair over his own silver-grey and he had grown into a fine ellon, though he had not found an elleth to call his own, Oropher hoped he would find one among the woodland elves. He drew himself back to the present and continued to observe the pile of orc corpses, none of his own littered the ground which was a blessing, it was not always the way. “Burn the bodies” he ordered, before urging his elk away from the scene and turned northward to return to his newly founded halls.

 

The journey was uneventful for the elvenking as his royal guard, ever was it so that the inner forests of Greenwood the Great were silent and clear of evil, thanks to the valour of its wardens. The rushing river was the first indication that this home was near, then the road would widen between the trees and come before a long and narrow bridge, the entrance too his halls which were built to resemble the lost city of Menegroth. Though Oropher’s attempts at such a task did not his old city any justice, the halls of the elvenking however were grand and imposing to any outsider, and his legend alone struck fear into even the hearts of orcs, for his deeds in the war of wrath during the first age were many yet were oft unspoken due to the tales of the Noldor. The memories of that war alone brought pain to his heart, for it was then that one of Morgoth’s serpents had taken to the field, and his son, Thranduil, in all of his bold youth stood tall before such a beast, his son and warriors indeed brought low the beast, but at great personal cost. The beasts flame had engulfed Oropher’s son, burning him completely on his left side and leaving him naught but ruined there, even despite elven medicines and magic, the best they could do for him was conjure an illusion to hide his deformity.  

 

Though he did not lose his son in body, he had instead lost him in spirit. Thranduil rarely laughed anymore and his once outgoing and charming nature vanished with those accursed flames. Oropher was forced from his sorrowful thoughts when his elk keened a calling cry, which was in turn responded too from within the elvenking’s halls as they neared the gates to his home. The elvenking smiled and gently brushed his mounts neck, his elk was a buck and recently his mate had given birth to a fawn, who unlike its sire was a rich brown and auburn colour. He thought it a perfect gift for his son for when the prince of the woodland realm would arrive.

 

“My king” called the guards as he rode by them and into his halls, he nodded in acknowledgment to them before he slipped away and dismounted his noble steed inside the entrance hall. Stable hands came at once at relieved the king of the reigns.

 

“See to it that he is treated well, he performed beautifully today” Oropher spoke softly as he once again brushed his elk’s fur, the creature snorting in agreement with the action. “Ensure he spends some time with his fawn also” the king added before slowly walking one of the many walk ways that would lead to his chambers. It heartened him to see so many elves about his halls, smiling and jovial despite the increasing perils coming from the south, and amongst the many elves of his kingdom two that he was very familiar with approached him with smiles.

 

“Ah, Gelathon, it is good to see you. I see that Galion is acting as your parchment carrier today then? Has Merrill become weary of you already?” Oropher asked with a hint of mirth in his tone. Gelathon was the first elf that Oropher came across within the Greenwood when he travelled over the mountains, he and his family were beset by a lost pack of orcs before Oropher and his small group of guards came to their aid. The ellon was very esteemed with the Silvan elves of the wood and acted as a councillor of sought, and upon hearing of Oropher’s part in his rescue they embraced him as their lord and eventually king.

 

“My wife is seeing to the newcomers; thus, she thought our son could be put to good use with my errands today” Gelathon replied with a smile. He was tall like most elves and had long brown hair like most Silvan’s that resembled the colours of the tree bark, and his eyes were of an olive green, a stark difference to the silver-grey mane and grey eyes of the elvenking. Though Oropher was of the sindar, he found that the silvan elves joyous and carefree which was something that needed, and that perhaps Thranduil would need.

 

“Well I require your council anyway, your son is welcome to join us if you wish him to gain experience” Oropher replied, smiling at the sight of eagerness from the young ellon beside his advisor.

 

“Of course, shall we away to the council chambers then my lord?” asked Gelathon.

 

“I will meet you there, for I will be glad to rid myself of my traveling cloths” the king spoke before moving by the two ellon, a signal that they were dismissed.

 

It was not long before Oropher had changed from his riding garb and into a fine robe of silver and an overcoat of midnight blue, the outfit reminding him of the stars in the vast night's sky. He strode purposefully into his council chambers, finding that Gelathon and Galion were already seated waiting for him, he wasted little time in taking the chair at the head of the table, the two other elves in the room waiting for him to speak.

 

“Another orc pack has been vanquished at the southern road” he spoke gravely, the expression on his long-time friend and advisor slipped.

 

“This is grave my king, this is happening too frequently to be of mere chance” Gelathon responded and Oropher had to agree. News of Sauron’s supposed drowning at Numenor had not slipped past his notice, the ever-present malice and darkness was growing once again, a sign that his spirit had endured. His people had been spared the devastation of the war between the elves and Sauron over one-thousand-and-seven-hundred years before, where Lindon and Rivendell were besieged by the forces of the dark lord. He had been thankful that his wife and son were staying in Lorinand across the Auduin during that perilous time.

 

“You are right my friend, Sauron is making his move and appears to be testing our strength” the elvenking spoke in thought. It was at that moment he thought it unwise to have invited Galion along, the young ellon looking concerned and fearful. “Yet we hold firm, I have heard news that he is more focused on the realms of men to the south, Minas Ithil was recently assaulted by a horde of orcs” Oropher sought to continue and ease his fears for their safety.

 

“What do you purpose long term?” Gelathon asked.

 

“I have doubled the watch at the borders, though I fear we may have to give ground. The forest to the south is too vast for our warden’s alone, and I do not wish to deploy the army so far from home” Oropher started, not liking what he was going to have to do to ensure his people were safe which was something that took priority. “I purpose we pull everyone back behind the Emyn Duir, we can better hold the passes of the mountains and river crosses than that of the open forest” he added.

 

“that would mean giving up two-thirds of the realm my king! And what of Amon Lanc?” Gelathon countered in shock at the elvenking’s plan. Amon Lanc, the first fortress he built within the Greenwood upon proclamation of his kingship but left abandoned as he moved to distance himself from the lady of the golden wood, Amdir may rule the forests, yet it was the Noldorian ring bearer who held the power.

 

“I do not do this easily mellon, I will not risk the lives of my people. It is too vast a realm to protect with the threat of Sauron” Oropher countered gently. Greenwood had a force of ten-thousand warriors that could be rallied for its defence, but even that would not be enough for the vastness of the forest realm. “I will appeal to King Amdir for his eyes on the southern edges, if a large host crosses the barren lands we will hear of it” he finished. The room fell silent as each ellon contemplated what might happen in the coming years, whatever it might be, it was not bound to be favourable to the free peoples.

 

“My wife and son are being sent for, for too long have they dwelt away from this forest. Now that the kingdom is established I seek to bring our people the queen the deserve and a prince. What say you of this Gelathon?” Oropher asked, seeking to move on from such grim tidings.

 

“The people would be excited indeed! Many are eager to finally see Queen Lalaith, and of course Prince Thranduil, many elleth are excited for the day he will dwell beneath our trees” Gelathon replied. Again, Oropher was amazed by the welcoming nature of the Silvan elves, had an unseen queen and prince come to a Noldor or even Sindar kingdom at that, they would be frowned and unwelcomed even after so long.

 

“Perhaps Galion would be a suitable companion to my son, what say you to that Galion?” Oropher asked the young ellon who sat quietly beside his father.

 

“I would be honored to accompany the prince on his arrival, I could introduce him to a few of the noble’s children?” Galion replied eagerly, causing the king to chuckle at his excitement.

 

“My son is a little dour, the nature of his experiences has dampened his soul some what I fear, but you will do him some good” Oropher smiled and then turned to Gelathon once more. “Have Thalion’s company depart to collect them as soon as possible, I will write a letter for them to take with them. I wouldn’t want the high-king of Lindon to be surprised by lowly Silvan’s turning up at his gates” the elvenking added, his comment on lowly Silvan’s was a mocking of the opinion of the high elven Noldor, Gelathon smiled in agreement.

 

“Very well, I will speak to Thalion at once” announced his advisor who stood from his seat and turned to leave, before catching himself and turning back to the king who looked back with a questioning glance. “Will a feast be required my king?” a smile gracing his lips.

 

“Oh, of course, mellon-nin” smirked the king.

 


	2. Chapter II - Vigorous Spring

**The Woodland Realm**

_Chapter II – Vigorous Spring_

_Year 3429 of the Second Age_

 

For five weeks had they travelled from London and the behest of the king, from Ered Luin, through Eriador and over the Misty Mountains via Rivendell. They had only stayed the one night in the Noldor haven, overseen by Elrond Half-elven, though the lord of the last homely house was not present during their stay. The journey over the mountains was uneventful save for the odd hungry warg that tried its luck, only to be slain or harried away by the keen eyes of Greenwood’s archers. The company of elves had turned north when they reached the Great River and only crossed when they reached the forest gate to the vast forest.

 

At the front of the company rode Thalion and his son Evandar as they lead the Greenwood’s royal guard on their long journey. Thalion was perhaps the keenest warrior in the Greenwood and the personal guard of the king, the duty he was performing now was the most important of his life, for he was guarding the king’s wife and only heir whilst they travelled to the halls of the elven king. Behind them and flanked by guards on all sides and the rear, was an elleth of otherworldly beauty, her long golden-blonde hair reached down to her lower back and her piercing sapphire blue eyes radiated great wisdom and kindness. She was dressed in a deep burgundy gown with a heavy silver cloak draped over her shoulders to ward away the bitter chill of the autumn giving way to winter, and upon her head sat a delicate silver circlet with a singular ruby set in its centre, her garb colours reflecting the coming season of Yule. Beside her sat a terrifyingly beautiful ellon, his hair almost silver-grey like Oropher yet held a golden sheen to it whilst his eyes were a pale blue like that of a winters morning. This elf contrasted with the elleth beside him, opting for a silver tunic that parted at the waist and swept around to the backs of his knees whilst a deep red overcoat textured like that of maple leaves with a high collar adored his shoulders. Perhaps the strangest feature of these elves compared to the Silvan guards was their hair, for no braids adorned them which amongst elves was uncommon.

 

“Thranduil ionneg, you seem pensive why don’t you share your thoughts with me?” Lalaith asked, her musical voice breaking the rhythmic sound of hooves rustling against the grass. Her son was always deep in his own mind, it had been so since his injuries that he suffered from the dragon over three millennia ago. It grieved Lalaith that her beautiful and vibrant son had lost his light, she clung to the memories of him as a young elfling and causing havoc in hers and her husband’s lives.

 

_Oropher gently brushed his wife’s arm as they lay in their afterglow of rather vigorous lovemaking that early morn, she rested her head upon his chest as she enjoyed his touch. There moment was disturbed however when the doors to their chambers opened slowly, drawing the attention of both elves who looked quizzical when no face appeared behind it and gently closed. However, within a few moments a little tuft of white-blonde hair could be seen tottering alongside the bed, before a little pair of hands and a wooden toy sword appeared at the edge of the mattress._

 

_“Ada and Nana up. Now” came the little demanding voice from beside the bed. Lalaith chuckled and drew the blankets up to cover herself before Oropher reached over and pulled the little elfling from the floor and onto his lap._

 

_“Yes Thranduil, Ada and Nana are up indeed. But why are you, it is much too early for little elves to be awake and with a sword no doubt” Oropher replied softly whilst his wife reached out and brushed her sons face lovingly. Thranduil was their pride and joy, their little vigorous spring._

 

_“I heard nana making noises, I came to rescue her Ada” stated the little elf before he turned his pale blue eyes to Lalaith. “Naneth is safe now” he proclaimed with happiness, holding his toy high in the air. Oropher watched his wife’s eyes widen at her sons words and turn to him in alarm, causing him to smirk and chuckle heartily, causing her to tap him on the arm, something Thranduil mimicked._

 

_“Why am I being punished so?” Oropher cried in mock offence._

 

_“You know very well why meleth-nin” she scolded in humour, a twinkle flashing in her husband’s eyes._

 

_“Perhaps it is you that should keep the volume down” he countered, earning himself a pillow around the head. Thranduil studied his parents intently whilst he tried to work out what they were referring too._

_“Oropher, you son is right there, must you be so vulgar” she protested._

 

_“What Nana, what does Ada know” asked the little elfling who glared at Oropher as though he kept some great secret from him. Oropher laughed gently and kiss his son on the head before passing him to his mother and reaching for the robe that was strewn on the floor. Lalaith gathered her son in her arms, the elfling giggling as she did so whilst her husband covered himself._

 

_“Ada will tell you one day, but that day is not today my elfling” Oropher started, hiding the urge to urge to chuckle at his son’s grumpy expression. “Perhaps we can go and practice with your wooden swords today?” He added. The little elfling beamed and untangled himself from his mother and crawled eagerly to the edge of the bed. Of course, Oropher merely stood and let his son wildly wave his little toy around as he was much too small and young to start his lessons. He caught the eye of his wife would smiled at her little child, they were truly thankful to the Valar for this little gift._

 

“The threat must be great, I heard rumours of a grand alliance in Lindon and Rivendell and now father summons us” came her son’s voice, deep as an ocean and commanding without effort, she often thought he took after his father in many ways but whereas Oropher was softly spoken, Thranduil was the opposite yet not without its own beauty and grace.

 

“Your father has called us here as the kingdom is ready, he wanted to navigate the cultural differences between that of Sindar and Silvan. Not that I think there is any concern, for are we all not elves?” Lalaith replied gently, skipping over the point of the rumours which indeed had begun to make the rounds.

 

“Even the Noldor? I Imagine they would think themselves like the Valar, such their arrogance” he questioned.

 

“Not all are the same, my son, we dwelt long enough in Thingol’s court to know that any elf, regardless of creed can be arrogant and unwise. That is not strictly applied to the Noldor alone” she spoke wisely.

“Next you will say that orcs are capable of reason” Thranduil snorted.

 

“I am not so old that I have lost sense Thranduil” she laughed in reply, causing a rare smile to grace her sons face something she greatly enjoyed seeing. They rode the rest of the journey in relative quiet as they picked up the pace, Lalaith eager to see her husband again after so long and Thranduil to desired to see his father greatly. As they travelled further into the forest the pair were reminded of the great forests of Elu Thingol’s realm, before the sacking by the dwarves and the elves vengeance, slowly but surely, they began to see elves gathering either side of the road, the people seemingly keen to get a glimpse of their queen and prince.

 

“Do you think it strange that they are so interested in us mother?” Thranduil asked quietly as the crowd of elves grew though remained parted for the company to pass. Lalaith observed the countless faces of both ellyn and elleth as they progressed to the halls of her husband, they were indeed curious of them and she smiled at all she caught eyes with, which were returned.

 

“I know not, perhaps your father has been too eager to praise us that we might even be a disappointment” she laughed, she was not blind to the looks of the elleth however. Her son caught many an eye wherever he went and here it seemed was no different. After what seemed like an age they finally came across the great rushing river and narrow bridge that lay before the doors to the elvenking’s halls, and the crowds were huge here and the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement. Thalion and Evandar began to slow their horses along with the rest of their company and dismounted, Thalion stepped over to Lalaith and extended his hand up towards her which she gently took as he helped her from the horse whilst Thranduil gently eased himself from his own, gently declining Evander’s.

 

“The day I require help down from a horse will be one of great shame” he spoke with a smile, the guard returning it with own smile and a nod of the head. The crowd fell silent suddenly causing Thranduil to turn and see his noble and beloved father exit his halls and walk across the narrow bridge. The king was dressed in a robe of the finest silver silk and a cloak of midnight blue, whilst a crown of sharp twigs and autumn leaves adored his head.

 

It was Thranduil’s mother who walked forwards first, though her steps were slow and measured it was clear to all she was holding herself back, had they been alone Lalaith would’ve ran into her husband’s embrace. Yet she stood before him as he extended his hand in which she eagerly took, relishing the feel of her beloveds skin.

 

“Meleth-nin” Oropher breathed seemingly forgetting where he was in that moment before the beauty of his wife. “My people of the woodland realm, my wife and your queen Lalaith!” He announced, his voice carrying through the forest and was met with roars of approval and applause. The king’s eyes did not leave his wife’s own as cradled her hand and brought her to stand beside him whilst his councillors and court members greeted her eagerly. As the applause died down Thranduil watched as his father’s eyes turned to him, joy and pride sparking within them as he did so, and he beckoned for Thranduil to step forward. “And of course, my son, Thranduil. It is good to welcome the prince of the woodland realm home” he spoke.

 

“Thank you, Ada,” Thranduil replied and lowered his head as would be deemed proper.

 

After further speeches and well wishes the king ushered his family and the people inside to the warmth of his halls and the grand feast began in earnest. The queen watched with amusement as the woodland elves danced and made merry with little care for appearances, something she found wonderfully charming. She sat beside her husband whom had not let go of her arm since her arrival, not that she minded his attentions for it had been far too long and it seemed he shared the same opinion.

 

“When it is deemed proper I will sweep you away to our chambers Meleth-nin” he whispered in her ear causing her eyes to darken a little, truth be told most bonded elves lay with one another quite frequently after marriage however it naturally waned after time, that such trope did not apply to Oropher however, who regularly sort out his wife for such carnal pleasures and keeping their passion aflame. It was something she did not object too, and she greatly looked forward to their reunion later.

 

“How much have you had to drink?” She teased.

 

“No drink would stratify my thirst as you would my beloved wife” he smiled, his words causing her great joy and pleasure.

 

“Maybe so my husband, but perhaps before you try and keep me to yourself I should mingle with your subjects?” she smiled before rising from her chair and walking off, turning to smile at him briefly as she did so. “Thranduil has been excited to see his ada for some time, go to him” she encouraged, before slipping away. Oropher felt his heart swell for a moment and he caste his eye about the hall as he searched the crowd for his son, finding him speaking with one of his advisors and one of the Sindar elves that had accompanied Oropher to the wood. The elvenking rose from his seat and made his way over, Thranduil had his back to him so it was his companions who saw the king first and gentle lowered their heads in reverence.

 

“My king Oropher, we were just speaking with the prince about his time in Lindon” Halathorn spoke first with Thranduil nodding in agreement, his eyes lighting up at his father’s presence.

 

“Ah is that so? I often found it too open and detached from nature, what are your thoughts son?” Oropher added his opinion before turning to his son. Thranduil was a tall as he and the father and son were amongst the tallest in the room, and whilst Oropher was strong in mind and body it was clear to the eye that his son was built like that of a warrior, even beneath his tunic and overcoat.

 

“I agree with you Ada, I have longed to be under the trees and halls since Doraith, so being here soothes my fae” Thranduil replied, his tone rich and deep. Hearing that being within the forests again helped his son brought a gentle relief to Oropher, he like his queen only wished to see their son whole again, and for that glimmer behind his eyes to return.

 

“And we are glad that you have come, there are many who wish to meet with you my son” Oropher added before turning to Halathorn and his companion. “Would you excuse us my friends? I believe I must introduce my son to a few people”

 

“Of course, my lord, I would much like to ensure my daughter is not causing trouble anyway. Good day my lords” Halathorn chuckled before walking into the throng of merry elves.

 

Oropher introduced his son to many of his advisors and their families, the warriors of the Greenwood appeared keen to discuss Thranduil’s part in the war of wrath and his other war stories, whereas many elleth’s blushed and whispered as the pair walked past, trying to catch the eye of the prince. After many introductions, Oropher led his son to his most trusted counsellor and friend, Gelathon.

 

“Gelathon, may I introduce my son Thranduil” Oropher spoke, pride evident in his voice. Gelathon smiled and placed his hand upon his chest before extending it outwards in greeting, an action which Thranduil returned.

 

“My prince, it is with glee that I am finally able to meet you. You have quite a legend within these halls” Gelathon spoke kindly before handing the king and his son a goblet of wine.

 

“Dorwinion, it is the finest vintage I have ever tasted ionneg” Oropher explained as Thranduil brought the goblet to his nose to sample its scent.

 

“Thank you, it must be a fine wine for you to say so father” Thranduil replied.

 

“I remember your first sample my king, never have I seen such a hangover in an eldar in my many years. Not since Galion snuck into my wine rack as a youth” Gelathon chuckled heartily. Thranduil’s eyes widened at the advisors’ jest, in all his time in Doraith he had never seen his father engage in banter within the court, yet Gelathon teased him so brazenly. It was when his fathers laugh was added that Thranduil allowed himself a small smile.

 

“This is why I prefer our Silvan kin, your humour and love for life is refreshing!” Oropher countered before taking a sip of his wine, prompting Thranduil too also sip the crimson liquid. The taste was divine and even he could tell of its potency from just one intake, he would have to keep his wits about him with this beverage Thranduil thought to himself. The three elves conversed for a time before Oropher made a gesture with his eyes to Gelathon who nodded and excused himself swiftly.

 

“What was that about?” Thranduil enquired, the action not evading his senses.

 

“You will see in a moment my son” his father replied. As they waited for Gelathon to return the lords of the Greenwood observe Lalaith who was engaged in lively chat with a pair of ellyn. “Your mother seems to have connected with the people instantly, they were very eager to meet you both” Oropher commented and Thranduil had to agree. The woodland elves were far more carefree and least rigid than the Noldor and even the Sindar, on his walk about the feast that night he had heard many elves talk on his mother’s beauty and charming heart, causing a swell of pride to form for his Naneth.

 

“My king, I have brought what you requested” Gelathon’s voice came from behind them. As Thranduil tore his gaze from his mother and turned his eyes to the ellon, he noticed that he carried a long and narrow ornate box in his arms.

 

“This is a gift for you my son, the elves of the wood wished to welcome you with something” Oropher explained.

 

“This was not required, but I thank you none the less” Thranduil replied quietly, not quite knowing what to say as he did not expect such a welcome from a people that he had never met, much less a gift from them. Gelathon smiled and unclasped the box and lifted the lid to reveal a beautiful silver sword, forged from a single piece of elven steel that shimmered elegantly. The blade was perfectly straight until the tip curved gently, the blade had been hollowed out with vine and leaf patterns to enhance its beauty and it glimmered under the lantern lights of the hall. “This is beautiful” was all Thranduil could speak his voice airy and breathless.

 

“It is the same as the sword that was granted to me” Oropher spoke and lay and hand on his sons’ shoulder. Thranduil gently lifted the sword from its box and marvelled at its craftsmanship and balance, it felt like it weighed no more than a feather.

 

“Thank you Gelathon, I would never much like to meet the elves who made such a weapon” Thranduil spoke as he ran his palm along its deadly edge.

 

“And you may, but tomorrow. Tonight, we must drink and make merry, so come let us go and see to your mother shall we?” Oropher replied before leading his son back into the centre of the hall.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found writing a young Thranduil very difficult and I hope it wasn’t a disappointment to you all! By this year in the story, given his birth in the First age and around the time of Thingol he would nearly be four-thousand years old by this point, so compensate there will be many flash backs to his childhood in this part of the trilogy!
> 
> I did enjoy writing him as a elfling though!
> 
> Share your thoughts, and I do thank all those who reviewed!


	3. Chapter III - Introductions

**The Woodland Realm**

_Chapter III – Introductions_

_Year 3429 of the Second Age_

_The clash of swords and shields sounded all about him as the tide of orcs swarmed their ragged battle line, the hated foe throwing themselves upon the elven spears and swords with a maddened bloodlust. Over the deafening roar of battle came a horn that sounded the call to fall back, and either side of him he saw as his warriors heeded the call and began to withdraw slowly. He felt his feet move on their own accord, slashing through the gut of an orc who sort to block him, before a sharp pain erupted from his side causing him to grunt in pain and run the offending orc through. He staggered slightly and observed his wound, a shallow gash just above his hip._

_“Ada!” came a desperate call, catching his attention. An ellon with white-blonde hair called across the battlefield as he tried desperately to reach him, his eyes full of wild energy. There was a sudden flash of pain that erupted down his back, before the feeling went numb and his vision began to slip away. The ellon still rushing towards him._

Thranduil awoke with a shout of alarm, his hand reaching for his hip as he bolted upright. Nothing. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he noted that he was in his chambers, safe and sound. Not an orc in sight, and so he rose from his bed and headed to his bathing room, seeking to wash away his nightmare. His dreams had been plagued with horrors of battle for some months now, some battles he remembered vividly such as the day that cursed dragon took to the field, and some that he did not recall, warriors garbed in armour he was not familiar with, banners he had never seen before. 

It was an early rise for him, and with it being the morning after the welcoming feast of his and his mother, he assumed that the halls would be silent, and the only ones awake would be the guards. He had bathed, dried and combed out his long fair hair and donned beeches and knee-high boots of earthen brown and a fitted tunic of cream that he used for his sparring sessions, the prince was eager to locate the sword halls and get a feel of his new blade. He slung his sword belt around his waist and tightened it to fit, before then heading for the doors of his chambers eager for the mornings exercise and rid himself of the nightmare. As he opened the large heavy oak doors he almost walked straight into an ellon who stood on the other side, his hand raised as if he were about to knock.

 

“My prince!” The ellon exclaimed in surprise and leapt back, narrowly avoiding a headlong collision. “Forgive me!” the elf exclaimed once his wits returned. Thranduil paused, he too had been caught off guard and his training and reflexes had caused his hand to fly to the hilt of his sword, an old twitch that he seemed to be plagued by.

 

“Nothing is to be forgiven, has my father summoned me?” Thranduil asked calmly.

 

“No, my lord, but your father the king did request I attend to you this morning, he advised you were an early riser” the elf replied with a smile, before straightening himself. “My name is Galion, son of Gelathon. I am to be your guide and assistant” Galion stated proudly. Thranduil felt pity for Galion, if roles were reversed he would rather not be attended to a Sindar prince so early in the morn.

 

“I apologise for your orders then Galion, I assure you, however, I am quite fine exploring by myself” Thranduil replied gently as he stepped out of the chambers and closed the door behind him and made to move past the ellon before him.

 

“I don’t mind my lord, honestly it would be a pleasure and these halls can become quite complex” Galion countered, his voice betraying nothing but patience. Thranduil paused for a moment, amiss at what to say. He could not dismiss the ellon without appearing rude, and he did not wish to offend his fathers’ people only on his second day. _Your people to_ he chastised himself.

 

“Very well, I had wished to locate the sword halls. Could you show me the way?” he asked, causing Galion to smile and nod.

 

“Of course, right this way my lord!” he spoke calmly and started to walk down one of the many branching pathways. Thranduil followed just behind as he observed the surroundings of his father’s halls, he had been truly inspired by the great halls of Menegroth and built his own dwellings in their likeness, though not as deep or vast. Then a thought crossed his mind, he could still not understand why the Silvan people had been so accepting of his father to become their king. Thranduil loved his father greatly, yet he could not grasp why they would accept a stranger to live among them, let alone rule them.

 

“Galion, would you speak freely to me if I asked you of it?” he asked, watching with mild amusement as the ellon seemed somewhat perplexed by his request.

 

“My lord?” asked Galion.

 

“The question was simple enough, and it meant exactly what I asked. No hidden agenda or desire to trap you” Thranduil explained calmly, his smooth and powerful voice carrying around the cavernous halls.

 

“I would if that is what you ask of me” replied the dark-haired ellon.

 

“My father, why do you all accept him as your king. You had little knowledge of him, save that he arrived at a dire time and saved your father. Noble as that is, it is hardly grounds for kingship?” Thranduil questioned, though not unkindly. Galion smiled and nodded slightly, keeping his pace steady as he led the prince to the sword halls.

 

“A wise question my prince” Galion started. “The Silvan people have always been simple at heart, no grand armies or halls of splendour like that of the Sindar or Noldor” he continued honestly, his hands held casually at his side whilst his brown and bronze robes brushed along the polished floors. “We were not blind to the war of wraith and truth be told the people were frightened, should the Valar have failed to bring Morgoth to heel we would all have perished” Galion narrated.

 

“It was a battle like no other, I doubt its like will be seen again” Thranduil added sombrely, so many good elves had perished in the conflict, many of whom were his friends. Awaiting in the Halls of Mandos they lay now.

 

“Many spoke that we needed a leader, someone that could unit the wandering bands to one people. When your father came, not only did he rescue my own father, but he bore a great wisdom that even the most stubborn of my people heeded” Galion continued, sparking a burning pride within Thranduil at the mention of his father. “He took the time to understand our culture and way of life and even embraced parts of it himself” he spoke before turning to Thranduil and smiled. “We were in need of someone to lead us, and your father was in need of a people to protect having lost much of his own, in the end it seemed an obvious choice” he finished. Before Thranduil could reply he heard the quiet pattering of feet and a soft giggling, followed by hushed whispers and a steadier tread. A moment later a young elleth elfling with ebony coloured hair, no older than maybe six summers ran around the corner with a book in hand, giggling as she did so, which caused Thranduil and Galion to halt at the sudden appearance. Not a few seconds, later an elleth rounded the corner with her hands gathered at her gown so she could give chase more easily.

 

“Elleina, come back here right now. Eylerion will not be impressed if he finds you have taken his record book!” her musical voice sounded in a hushed whisper, clearly to keep quiet at such an early morning. The child shrieked with laughter and bolted away from the older elleth, before her pale green eyes found the two ellon watching her, one with brown hair stood with a bemused grin on his face whereas the tall and majestic looking blonde looked at her with a quizzical expression. The elfling appeared stunned and promptly dropped the modest size book on the floor with an echoing thud. The second older elleth finally catching up to the small girl, went wide-eyed as she saw who stood before them, she swiftly composed herself and curtsied before Thranduil and Galion. “My prince! I apologised profusely for the scene you have just witnessed, it is unbecoming of the king’s subjects to run amok in the halls!” the elleth quickly spoke, clearly mortified. “Elleina, where are your manners. You stand before the prince” she gently admonished her. The little elleth looked up at the older woman before turning back to the Thranduil and curtsied herself.

 

“We are all elflings once my lady” Thranduil began speaking to the older elleth. She was beautiful, even by elven standards as she wore a gown of crimson, her hair was a more golden hue of his own and her eyes of a light shade of blue compared to his. He moved on from observing the elleth and turned his gaze to the little girl by her side, perhaps her daughter he thought, yet her black hair and green eyes betrayed such a notion. “I seek not to rob a young elf of their mischief, no matter the hour” he spoke gently, yet his voice still carried easily. Galion smiled at the child and leaned down to collect the fallen book.

 

“What has Eylerion done this time Elleina, for you to pilfer his log book I wonder?” Galion asked with a raised eyebrow. The little elleth’s eyes darted between all the grown elves around her before they settled on Thranduil again.

 

“Did he perhaps not allow you to read a book that you wanted to?” Thranduil asked with a tilt of his head, he was not well versed in dealing with elflings and this little one’s stare did not aid him in his quest to change that. “The librarian in Doriath would never let me read about the dragons, no matter how often I asked” he added lowering himself to his knee, suppressing the shudder at the mention of the beasts, perhaps if he had listened to the older ellon back then, he may be more whole now. The little girls’ eyes lit up at his words and he could see the tells of excitement coming to the fore.

 

“Eylerion says that little elleth’s don’t need to read about dragons my lord, he says that I should read the Mouse and the Stag! But Alarielle has read that to me thousands of times my lord!” Elleina exclaimed, her hands flying out to the sides to enhance her exaggeration.

 

“Thousands you say?” he exclaimed as he played along as he smiled at the child, perhaps the first genuine smile that graced his face in many years outside of the realms of his father and mother. Elleina nodded quickly to re-enforce her point and out of the corner of Thranduil’s eye he could see the one he assumed as Alarielle smiling fondly at the girl.

 

“You have seen a dragon haven’t you my lord!” the little girls' excitement taking over, much to the horror of Alarielle who made to step in and apologise to the prince.

 

“Worry not my lady, it is natural for a child to question” he reassured her, causing the elleth to somewhat relax a little. Thranduil turned his eyes to the young girl before him. “Perhaps when you are a little older I will tell you of the dragon I saw, but perhaps I can lend you one of my books for lady Alarielle to read to you, how does that sound?” he asked. Elleina bobbed up and down on her toes and held her hands together as she looked up to Alarielle as though seeking permission, and upon seeing the older elleth’s smile she looked back to the prince.

 

“Would you like to borrow on of mine to Prince Thranduil?” the little girl asked.

 

“It would be my pleasure, though would what you suggest little one?” he replied with keen interest, which excited the elfling.

 

“Um, have you read the Mouse and the Stag?” Elleina asked after a moment’s intense thought.

 

“Why no I haven’t, but it must be a wonder for you to have read it thousands of times over” he chuckled quietly. “I will bring you one of my childhood favourites, the Shrew and the Nut how does that sound?” He added. Elliena looked excitedly at the prince and nodded with a beaming smile. “Very well I will come by later to exchange the book with you little one, if Lady Alarielle has a suitable time in mind?” Thranduil spoke to the elfling first before directing his last few words to the elleth besides her, seemingly catching her off guard.

 

“A little after lunch perhaps my prince? You can bring the book to myself, I have chambers on the upper levels or I can meet you at a place of your choosing my lord” replied the lovely elleth before him, her voice wavered but a little before steadying.

 

“I am afraid I am still learning the many ways of these halls, perhaps we could meet by the sword halls this afternoon for I will know the way to there by mornings end” he offered, truth be told he did not want to intrude upon the elleth’s personal dwellings.

 

“That would be agreeable with me my lord, I shall meet you there just after noon?” She asked.

 

“That is agreeable with me” he replied before turning to look at Elliena, whom studied both elleth and ellon with interest. “I will look forward to reading your book, perhaps we can discuss your thoughts after you are done?” He offered kindly, the little elfling seemingly thrilled by the offer as she jumped up and down with glee.

 

“What do you say to the prince little one?” Alarielle said gently.

 

“Thank you Prince Thranduil” the little elf said and curtsied. With that Alarielle gently placed her hand on the little girl’s shoulder and encouraged her to walk past the two ellon after curtsying herself to the prince before she left. Thranduil and Galion watched them leave and smiled as Elleina turned around and waved to them, Alarielle too looked over her shoulder and her eyes met Thranduil for a moment, before a small smile graced her lips and she continued down the winding path. Galion whom had stood silently through most of the social engagement turned to the prince with a smile.

 

“You appear to be a natural with young ones ... and the elleth’s” he observed, still clutching the book that the little elfling had pilfered.

 

“Truth be told, I have had very little interaction with either, for I spent most of my adult years honing my skills with a blade. Much to my mother’s anguish” he smiled at the last words, his Naneth had often tried to entice him to more courtly ways, yet his calling and heart drew him to the military, he had not found an elleth to call his own, not through lack of attention however.

 

“Yes, the king speaks very proudly of your prowess with a sword and many of the guards and soldiers here are keen to spar with you my prince” Galion added.

 

“That is good, I feared my status as my father’s son would leave me limited with my sparing options. Shall we go then to the halls?” Thranduil replied. Galion nodded his agreement and held out his arm in a gesture of the prince to follow, both ellyn making their journey once again to the sword halls.

 

Meanwhile, overlooking the many walk ways of the halls was the royal chambers of the king and queen, and stood on the balcony that faced inwards to the halls was Lalaith who had observed the scene with a brilliant smile. For her son, her little spring had smiled for the first time in the company of others and before an elfling no less, her keen ears could not pick out the words spoken but her eyes did not fail to see that smile. The little scene reminded her of a time in Doriath when Thranduil was about the same age as the little elleth whom he conversed with a moment before.

 

_Lalaith walked slowly within the gardens of Menegroth, her little elfling tottering beside her as they explored the lush and vibrant flowers and trees that grew in the sheltered cavernous realm, the sunlight spilling through a large opening in the ceiling. It was Thranduil’s sixth summer to the day and he proudly wore a crimson day robe that his father had made for him, whilst strapped to his little belt was his toy wooden sword, refusing to go anywhere without it. I will protect you nana, he would say. She led Thranduil to a seating area within the centre of the gardens which was raised slightly to grant a lovely view of the colourful garden. As she reached the steps she gathered her gown and lifted the front slightly so as not to trip on her feet. Seeing this Thranduil paused for a moment at the base of the steps and looked down at his robe, before he too took a fistful of the soft material and copied his mother._

_Lalaith turned to see her son holding up his little day robe and burst into musical laughter at the scene. Thranduil paused and looked as his mother in confusion, was she not doing the same as he?_

_“My son, whatever are you doing?” She laughed, a soft and beautiful sound that echoed about the garden, her radiant smile gracing her face._

_“I’m copying you nana?” He replied._

_“I can see that my little spring, but why? Your robe is split at the front so that you do not need to worry about falling” she giggled and reached the top of the stairs and held out her hand for him to take._

_“Why is mine like this but yours and other elleth’s like yours?” The little elf quizzed his mother._

_“Elleth wear gowns and dresses Thranduil, ellyn wear robes and tunics” she replied as she took a seat on the nearest stone bench._

_“We look the same nana” he exclaimed, clearly baffled and earning another laugh from his mother._

_“I am wearing a dress my son, you are wearing a robe. See, yours splits at the waist were as mine does not” she explained as she touched the soft fabric of her gown._

_“Why don’t you wear a robe like me then nana? You wouldn’t have to do this” Thranduil proceeded to hold up his robe at the front and mimicked her movement on the steps, earning a round of laughter from Lalaith again at her son’s antics._

_“The boy is not wrong” came a deep voice from behind Lalaith, who stood instantly and turned to face the owner of said voice. Elu Thingol stood at the other end of the raised platform, in a resplendent golden robe whilst his golden hair hung freely down his shoulders and back. Lalaith bowed deeply. “Perhaps the elleth’s of our realm should listen to the young one”_

_“My king” she spoke softly as he approached, his eyes studied her for a moment before turning to face Thranduil, whom stood awestruck by the powerful elf lord before him._

_“Lalaith, I must apologise for keeping Oropher away from you both this morning, we are just going over perpetrations of the feast of starlight” spoke Thingol kindly before finally addressing the elfling. “I believe that your name is Thranduil?” He asked. Thranduil merely looked up, seemingly speechless that the king would be addressing him._

_“Thranduil, it is rude to not reply when spoken too” Lalaith spoke._

_“Sor-sorry nana, yes my king, my name is Thranduil” he spoke quietly, causing Thingol to smile gently at the little elf before kneeling to his level._

_“Vigorous spring, very apt for you from what I have heard from your father” the king spoke, before his gaze drifted to the wooden sword at Thranduil’s hip. “Do you like swords little one?” He asked._

_“I do, nana doesn’t though” replied the elfling, his mother chuckling slightly._

_“I would just prefer I kept my elfling innocent and childlike as long as I am able” she interjected, coming to stand beside her son and brushing her hand across his head._

_“I understand Lalaith, we all want to keep the young as that for as long as we can, I am the same with my daughter. Yet I confess it is best that he be learned by the blade and not need it, than be in need and not be learnt” advised the king, the last line he whispered as not to encourage the boy. Thranduil watched as his mother frowned slightly, her brow furrowed in thought before the king spoke again. “What if he learns from my personal guard, all are well versed and Thranduil would be in safe hands”_

_Lalaith looked down at her son whom was staring back with interest, she knew that he would seek out his own training when he came of age but she, and perhaps selfishly, wanted to keep him to herself for he was her greatest gift and the fear of losing her little spring terrified her more than anything._

_“Thranduil, perhaps you can go find your nana her favourite flower? Would you do that for me?” She asked her child gently, who beamed with excitement and bowed to Thingol before drawing his little sword as he ran off into the garden, pretending he was a hero on a quest. She smiled sadly after her son before turning to the king. “Only once he becomes of age and not a day before” she relented._

She still regretted the day she agreed for her son to learn the sword, for his prowess was great among the Sindar and even some of the Noldor and great warriors often only met there end one way. She hoped to the Valar that her son would avoid such a fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Imagining a young Thranduil is quite enjoyable, and I do enjoy writing his mothers character. 
> 
> Thank you to those who have reviewed thus far!


	4. Chapter IV – From the West

**The Woodland Realm**

_Chapter IV – From the West_

_Year 3429 of the Second Age_

_Thranduil stood patiently outside the sword halls with the book that he had promised to Elleina, he felt some measure of nervousness which he was not accustomed too. It was a little after noon and he suspected that Alarielle would be along shortly, his stomach twisting ever so slightly as he thought of the elleth, foolish he thought to himself, he was a warrior and a prince and as such should not feel unease about meeting with an elleth. No matter her beauty. He watched as a number of guards and warriors came to and from the training halls with each of them bowing their heads in reverence to him as they passed by. He had made quite the impression on the few elves that were sparing earlier in the day, Thranduil himself was impressed with the prowess of the woodland guards and though he had bested all five of the warriors who willingly sparred with him, it was no easy feat._

_The silvan of the Greenwood fought so differently from the Noldor and sindar warriors, the Noldor fought as one would a duel, graceful and deadly yet calm and precise. The sindar he served with during his time at Doraith fought as a unit, in formations of spears and bows citing the strength of an army was the many and not the few. The silvan were suited to fighting in the forest, yet he doubted their effectiveness in open battle, something he fear would be coming soon._

_“My prince?” Came a soft and gentle voice, drawing him from thoughts of battle and tactics. He drew his eyes from the sword halls and turned to face the owner of the voice. Alarielle. Thranduil forced away the small knot that had formed in his stomach and gave a small smile to the elleth before him, she wore a dress of crimson as she had earlier that morning and held in her hands a small book that had appeared to have seen much use._

_“My lady, I trust that the little elfling was of further mischief after you departed this morning?” He enquired, earning a broad smile from the elleth and a chuckle._

_“She is a handful my lord, but she means no harm and she spoke of you often after we left” Alarielle replied, her soft smile remaining on her fair and beautiful face. Thranduil felt his heart warm and her words, perhaps he was not so hopeless with elflings as he thought, his mother would be very proud indeed._

_“It warms my heart to hear so, your daughter is a credit to you” he spoke as he came to stand a little closer so to not appear so distance and formal._

_“Oh, my lord, she is not my daughter” she quickly replied._

_“Apologies my lady, I was wrong to assume” he replied, of course she wasn’t, the child herself had referred to her by name and not as her Naneth._

_“Worry not my lord, her father was slain in a skirmish in the south not a year ago” Alarielle replied with a sombre tone, causing Thranduil to feel pity for the young elfling at such a loss. “Her mother passed from grief not long thereafter, so she is in the care of many families, but I see to her more frequently than most” she finished._

_“She has suffered much in her young life, yet so vibrant and joyous she is despite it all” he marvelled. Suddenly he felt that his woes at the flames of the dragon were small compared to the experience of losing both parents._

_“That she is my lord” she said with a radiant smile which caused his weary and troubled fae to brighten just a little further, causing him to pull his eyes to the book he held in his palms._

_“The book as I promised, I hope she enjoys this tale as much as I did in my youth” he spoke once he felt his fae steady itself, finding it unsettling the way it had reacted. He extended out the thin red leather-bound book for the elleth to take, she reacted quickly and took the gift from him gently, her fingers gently grazing his own and at such a moment he swore he could hear her breath catch the moment her soft skin meet his courser fingers._

_“Thank you, my lord, I am sure she will enjoy this greatly” she said with a slight hitch in her tone, her eyes a little wider than before which refused to meet his own. “You do not need to feel the need to read it, it is a child’s tale and I am sure she will forget to ask you about it” Alarielle added as she carefully handed over the book she carried, a slight tremble in her grip. Thranduil observed her trembling hand and feared that he was making her uneasy in his prescience._

_“I am an elf of my word, I will read this for her as promised. Do I make you feel at unease my lady? Please speak freely” he asked, the elleth’s eyes rising rapidly to his own, wide with alarm._

_“No, no of course not my prince, forgive me if I seem tense. I am not used to speaking to royalty, so I find myself at a loss” she replied swiftly, her words putting him at ease a little, at least it wasn’t him directly._

_“I am just an ellon my lady, flesh and blood like any other” he countered with a small smile._

_“You are hardly just another ellon my lord” she spoke quietly as a group of four elleth walked by, each glancing at the prince with interest and longer than required for a simple glance._

_“It was simpler when I was” he countered with a smile, which she returned. There was that spark in his fae once again._

“Ionneg? Perhaps I bore you this afternoon?” Came his father’s voice, snapping him from his daze. They were wandering along one of the many forest paths that sprung forth from the palace gates, the king was keen to show his son the woodland that was his kingdom.

 

“No Ada, I was merely distracted for a moment” he replied quickly.

 

“Distracted? You? I Think not, who is she?” Oropher questioned with a smirk. He had not missed the deep-thinking expression that was mixed with wisdom and a faction of doubt. Thranduil looked at his father suddenly, his sapphire blue eyes searching his father’s grey orbs with a questioning glance.

 

“Whatever do you mean father? I ponder many things, few being elleth” he countered, earning a chuckle from his slightly taller father.

 

“do not play coy with me my son, I know the look of an ellon whom thinks of an elleth. You forget I was young once” the king pried, his hands clasped before him as they walked. Thranduil knew not what to say, it had been a week since he had spoken with Alarielle at the sword halls and he could not shift her from his mind, yet he could not figure why, nor why his fae brightened whenever he saw her within the halls or when his thoughts briefly drifted to her.

 

“I meant Elleina and Alarielle not last week, the young girl’s tragic past lingers in my mind perhaps ada” Thranduil countered and noted his father’s face fall and his eyes close for a moment before they opened again.

 

“Yes, a tragic fate and more a reason why I have pulled our people further northward. To lose one subject is painful enough, but an entire family nearly” Oropher started, stopping and turning to his son with grief evident on his fair and regal face. “That was a heavy burden to witness, I still grieve that I could not prevent her mother from fading, alas her heart and spirit were too hurt, too broken” he finished sadly.

 

“They will one day be reunited in Vanilor ada, death is merely another path” Thranduil spoke up, death to the elves was a difficult concept to grasp for their immortal race. Yet it was not final, for all those who fell would be reborn in the undying lands to await their loved ones or in some rare chances, return to Middle Earth themselves.

 

“It is odd is it not my son, that we should grieve so heavily when we know that it is but temporary” Oropher summarised. They continued to walk in silence for a time, when suddenly they could hear hooves upon the forest floor which caused the two royal ellyn to turn and face the source. To Thranduil’s surprise and awe a great elk burst forth from the forest and halted before them, an ellon garbed in the armour of a warden and a spear in hand.

 

“Flevedir! Thranduil, this is Flevedir, captain of the guard” Oropher introduced, Thranduil nodded his acknowledgement whilst the captain brought his hand to his chest in greeting. “You ride with much urgency?” the king asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

 

“Indeed my king, orcs. Something has disturbed them and not our own” the captain spoke quickly. The news of orcs this far north caused Oropher great concern, the enemy had grown too bold. Oropher turned to face Thalion, whom stood a distance away to allow the the king and his son some pirvacy.

 

“Muster my guard, Flevedir how far are they from here?” the king asked in a commanding tone, gone was the soft-hearted father Thranduil had known and replaced by the warrior.

 

“Not far, twenty minutes hard riding my lord and there is something else you should know” Flevedir spoke, a glance from Oropher encouraged him to continue. “I heard shouts in Quenya my lord” said the captain. Oropher’s eyes darkened and Thranduil closed his eyes at what the news meant.

 

“Noldor! Too the halls, we ride out at once. Pray we find them alive, so I can personally deal with their ilk” Oropher ordered.

 

“I am coming with you ada” Thranduil spoke, causing the elvenking to turn and face his son. The prince’s expression was one that would brook no argument, something that Thranduil had inherited from Oropher without doubt. The king nodded his agreement, knowing full well that his wife would be furious with him for allowing their son to accompany him.

 

“ _Lalaith forgive me_ ” he thought to himself

 

…

 

Thranduil gripped the reigns tight as he willed himself to mastering his riding skills to the mount below him. He had ridden horses for many ages and could fight as comfortably on horseback as on foot, yet these great forest elk were different. He rode a beast of course brown fur and giant antlers and beside him his father rode one of silver grey, the royal guard each astride one of the woodland elks as they raced between the forest trees towards there task. Whereas a horse would gallop straight forward, these elks almost swayed and bounded left and right as they weaved through the ticket, an action that Thranduil was slow to adjust.

 

He observed the equipment worn by the royal guard as they rode, grey cloaks fluttering from the waist as they were fixed to their belts so they wouldn’t catch on the branches they raced by. They all wore coats of silver scales and plated bracers and boots and a flared helm, with a face guard of scale so that only their eyes were visible. Each held a tall spear and shield, with a sleek and curved sword at their hips, they were not dressed like those of the woodland wardens whom favoured leather and long knives. Thranduil was drawn to the sounds of clashing swords, growls and shrieks of the orcs up ahead, and as if his elk sensed his eagerness it doubled its pace, bursting into a clearing. His keen eyes scanned the battle before him, a handful of no more than ten tall figures fought desperately back to back, their golden armour marred with the black blood of the orcs. The golden garbed elves looked up in relief at the sudden appearance of their mounted aid, with Oropher surging into the melee and running his spear through a pair of orcs, whilst his giant elk gored three of the foul beasts that tried to close in. The royal guard surged in behind their king, slaughtering the foul orcs as they did so with spear, sword and arrow.

 

Thranduil urged his mount forward and in one smooth motion, drew his sword and cleaved the head from the shoulders of the nearest orc with ease before leaning back to evade an orc spear, his blade then coming back around and opening the creatures throat. His ears picked out the sound of a bowstring being draw taught, followed by a twang. His mount keened loudly and snapped his head to the left rapidly, causing Thranduil to be but a witness as the arrow that was meant for his throat , bounce harmlessly from the elks antler. The offending orc had already gone to draw another arrow, but before it could nock the black fletched arrow it was in turn struck squarely between the eyes by an arrow of amber feathers. Thranduil turned to see one of his father guards ride pass him and loose another arrow, casting another orc from a tree to the ground below.

 

The battle lasted only a few minutes as the arrival of the king and his guard had caught he orcs unaware, making them easy pickings for the keen warriors of the Greenwood. A dark-haired ellon stepped forward from the group of golden armoured elves as he sheathed his curved sword, placing his hand upon his chest as Oropher urged his elk forward whilst his guard encircled the rest.

 

“Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn, tar Oropher” spoke the elf as he bowed in reverence. Surprising Thranduil, his experiences of Noldor were not very pleasant, arrogant even by elven standards. The elf before him was familiar, he had seen his face in Lindon, at Gil-Galad’s court.

 

“Whom might you be and what business do the Noldor have in my forest?” Oropher commanded. His position atop his grand and majestic elk made him appear an imposing and terrifying figure to behold, yet the elf before him did not flinch.

 

“My name is Elrond of Imladris and herald of Gil-Galad, I come baring word from High-king, we were beset upon by these orcs as we traversed the elven path. We have wounded my lord” Elrond spoke gently. _Of course,_ Thranduil thought, he knew the name but had never met the lord of the last homely house in person, even when they had passed through not so long ago, he had heard nothing but good things in regard to the elf before them.

 

“So, the king of the Noldor seeks to speak to his _rustic_ kin? We have not had orcs deep in these parts before, they must have followed you down from the mountains” Oropher countered defensively. The northern borders were secure and judging by the stature and pale skin of the orc corpses that littered the clearing, it suggested they had come down from the misty mountains and not from the south. The king scanned the warriors of Elrond’s company, indeed most where well, bar the odd scratch or bruise but there were one or two with more pressing injuries. One had two arrows that had managed to pierce his armour and had imbedded within his shoulder and gut, a comrade was trying to remove the shaft. “I would not try to remove that arrow yet, lest you wish for him to bleed out before we can reach my halls” Oropher advised, his tone not as cold as Thranduil had expected.

 

“Your majesty, the arrow could be poisoned” the elf replied.

 

“In which case the poison will already be in his blood. The eldar are hardy to such ill methods, however my people have fended off the orcs from the mountains for decades at the border, chances are that arrow head is barbed” the king replied before turning his elk about and began to walk towards the treeline. “Break the shafts and hand him to one of my guards, we will ensure he makes it to my halls quickly, the rest of you will follow me” Oropher commanded, before his mount marched off into the forest, Thalion and his mount following just behind.

 

Thranduil watched as the two wounded warriors were given to a pair of his father’s guards before they too rode off swiftly into the wood, his attention was drawn back however when he felt the presence of two of the royal soldiers approach him. He turned to face them and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

 

“That was impressive work with the blade my prince and now I see what the whispers were about, I am Evandar son of Thalion and one of the warriors who accompanied you and your mother from Lindon to Greenwood” spoke the nearest guard, wielding a short-recurved bow and a quiver half full of amber fletched arrows.

 

“I remember, your skill with a bow is great. I know many elves are gifted as such but from the back of a mount is impressive” Thranduil replied.

 

“Your words honour me my prince” Evandar replied.

 

“You never were one to reject praise mellon-nin” spoke up the second guard, whom before now had been watching the remaining guard encircle the Noldor and lead them in the direction of the halls.

 

“Apologies Feren, perhaps you would like me to complement your skills with a sword also?” Evandar batted back at his fellow guardsman, earning a scoff from the other ellon.

 

“It would be praise but given that you do not know the tip from the hilt it would be hollow” the one named Feren countered, earning a hearty laugh from Evandar. Thranduil watched with interest, his father’s advice that the Silvan were indeed different and more spirited from their own kin and the Noldor was true indeed, and to his surprise he found it refreshing. Evandar caught the eye of the prince and calmed his mirth for a moment.

 

“Come my prince Thranduil, we must be getting back to the halls and I am sure you do not wish to hear myself and Feren here bicker about my sword play further” Evandar commented. The prince nodded and he turned to follow his father’s path, the two ellyn flanked him and his mount as they made their way back in the direction of the halls. “Besides mellon-nin” Evandar spoke, gaining the attention of both Feren and Thranduil. “The king could make us all look like elflings with a spear” Feren rolled shook his head.

 

“Apologies my lord” Feren spoke quietly, earning a small chuckle from Thranduil.

 

“Its quite alright, I think Evandar has quite the point” the prince replied. He might well like it here in the Greenwood after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the review’s guys and especially Silver-crowned Valkyrie (Again fantastic writer of Thranduil so go check out their works) and FramedCursoity. 
> 
> Let me know your likes and dislikes and anything you would like to see, and I will see if I can put them into my works. The description of the royal guards is meant to reflect the palace guard armour that we see in the second film besides Thranduil and his throne, for that this point they are described as “Lightly armoured” by Tolkien himself.

**Author's Note:**

> What do we think?
> 
> I intend to do this tale over three shorter stories (fifteen chapters each or so). Spanning the events of Oropher’s rule and Thranduil’s prince hood, then the war of the last alliance and finally Thranduil returning home and trying to come to terms with his new title.
> 
> This will be a work in progress as it’s a bit more complicated (I have been researching dates and ages etc etc) and I will be taking my take with it as I am working on an Inheritance Cycle series as well (I find flicking between two types of fandoms keeps it fresh. 
> 
> Reviews are welcome for guidance and views.


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